


Say something

by SuffragetteEdith



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Enola Holmes Series - Nancy Springer, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuffragetteEdith/pseuds/SuffragetteEdith
Summary: Ficlets and vignettes.
Relationships: Edith Grayston/Sherlock Holmes
Comments: 19
Kudos: 79





	1. The box

Edith put the kettle on the table and sat down. It was tea time but she was tired. She had spent the night awake, making boxes with Eudoria, and had little time to rest afterwards. 

Edith checked the paper. The Third Reform Bill was a success, but there will be not the right to vote for women. Yet.

It was a hope. She needed to keep hope. It was a dream. She and Eudoria had forged their friendship on the foundation of the same dream. It was so close and so far away.

One of the girls brought her a cardboard box wrapped in a blue string. It was a medium-sized yellow box, the texture was interesting and therefore the gift was expensive. Edith undid the knot. Inside were a card and a book. She read the message.

_Dear Miss Grayston:_

_I know - I said what I said about politics. But you seemed more interested in such affairs than me, so I thought that maybe you will enjoy this book better._

_P.S.: Don’t tell Enola._

_Yours sincerely,_

_S.H._

Edith examined the book; it was a newly printed volume of a Spanish writer. “The Woman in her House by Concepción Arenal.”

Now…there might be a chance. She smelled the new pages and smiled.


	2. The meeting

The place was congested with people, men and women. Edith listened to the last speech and then carefully went out the back door. Outside, the slight breeze stirred her hair. It was a quiet night and the full moon looked like a silver coin over the dark sky.

The meeting was good, new groups were joining the cause. But everything was so slow, Edith felt increasingly impatient.

She decided to walk alone to her shop. She needed to get organized for the day, had to buy supplies for her pastries and new blankets for her students.

Edith was engrossed in her thoughts when a voice surprised her. She automatically stood guard with one of her jiu jitsu positions.

“Miss Grayston!”

“Holmes?”

“Such a lovely night, isn’t it?” He replied all formality in his expression but sometime jolly in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” She asked looking both ways.

“A case,” he answered with simply honesty.

“I can't stay here much, it's best they don't see us together.”

He seemed disappointed.

“I'm not behind your friends' lead, if that worries you.”

“If I find out you're behind these good people, you'll have to deal with me later.”

He smirked.

“Someone's lost in the area. Take it easy, Miss Grayston.”

“Another marquis, any duke?”

“Actually a factory worker.”

That take her by surprise.

“What's so special about the case?" she asked again. "You wouldn't be behind if it didn't make you curious.”

He smirked again.

“Sometimes I like worldly things. But I must know my way, I'm sorry I bothered you. Good night.”

And that was it, as he had appeared, Sherlock Holmes vanished streets above.

“Good night,” she whispered to the loneliness of the night and went on her way.


	3. Tea-shop

Her father, Ignatius, was a tradesman from Liverpool. Her mother, Elizabeth, was a worker of a big department store in London. They fell in love at first sight and married only a few months later. Then they founded the tea-shop when Edith was only one year old. They didn't have any more children afterwards.

The tea-shop was everything for Edith. Well, almost everything. So, when she saw Holmes reading a paper at one of her tables she nearly cried. He was smoking his pipe, of course. She hated tobacco. She didn't want any more trouble, didn't want any more threats and would never betray Enola or Eudoria.

“Holmes?” she asked, standing at the table.

“Miss Grayston! Good to see you,” he said leaving the paper. Holmes had the decency to stand.

“This is my shop, the chances of seeing me are high,” she retorted.

He smiled a knowing smile and seemed more like a rake than a detective in that moment.

“Please, sit with me” Holmes requested with delicacy.

Edith looked at her customers, all mingled in their tea or the company or the conversation.

“Is it about Enola?” she inquired taking a seat and he took his chair again.

“It is about Eudoria.”

“I can't talk about your mother.”

“I know,” he murmured.

Maybe it was something in his expression or that clean, smooth look of his eyes, but Edith found herself saying:

“She is fine. She has always known how to take care of herself.”

“I remember,” he said simply.

“I have a blueberry pie; she says that is your favorite.”

He smirked.

“This is a truce then?”

Edith gave him a crooked smile.

“Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sherlock in my fics is tree Sherlocks. The original, the Cavill's version and the Enola books version. Sorry <3


	4. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU

The sun came through the window and illuminated Sherlock's quiet features. Edith sat up half-length in the bed and looked at him for a long time. He was sleeping; a curl of hair fell on his temple. His perfect jaw rested on the pillow and there was something youthful on his face.  
She knew a lot of things about him and at once… nothing. Was he a rich man who played to be a detective or a detective pretending to be a rich man? He had his fortune, his cases, and his reputation. She had banners, protests, and nights in the police cell. Where he was quiet she was loud. Where he was methodic and sometimes cold, she was passionate and irreverent.   
They were an accident. A car crash about to happen. Edith knew it had been a mistake to spend the night with him and at the same time she was not sorry.  
She never felt happier and more alive.


	5. Ivy

Edith went to the market looking for fresh fruit to make cakes. The covered market was between Union Street and Queensgate. She liked the smell and the noise of the place, the vivid colors. One could find everything in the place, from medicinal herbs to new shoes. There was even an old man who exchanged used books who was her friend.

“Miss Grayston!”

 _Speaking of old friends_ , she thought upon hearing the male voice. Although technically he was not her friend. She did not know what Sherlock Holmes was in her life.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

Sherlock gave her a crooked smile. His curls were perfectly combed, although a strand of hair fell across his forehead. His morning coat was buttoned high, a dark clothing cut, made to measure, of course. He was impossibly handsome that morning.

_Don’t think about that._

“I'm looking for a plant. It’s for an experiment.”

Of course, what other reason would he have? Not that he was following her. That would be inappropriate, unreasonable, and weird. He twirled his hat in his hands, while looking at her intently. His eyes were light blue, it was the first time she had noticed it. He almost looked nervous.

“What would that be?” She asked.

He looked at her curiously.

“I mean your plant,” she added.

Sherlock sighed relieved. _“Hedera rhombea,”_ he replied.

Edith worried her lower lip. He was more comfortable discussing facts and science than making small talk.

“That's a rare species, at least to find it here,” she mused.

“So you know what I'm talking about?”

And there it was, the sparkle in his blue eyes. At that time there was nothing more important in the world for him.

“Songak,” she answered.

“Japanese ivy.”

She smiled.

“What is funny?” Sherlock asked. He batted his thick, dark lashes, inquisitively.

“Do you know the language of flowers?” Edith wonder as she watched a boy pass by with a little wagon full of daisies and chrysanthemums.

“Yes, I know something about that.”

“Ivy means fidelity.”

He smiled again, a bright and satisfied smile.

“Hummm, I didn’t connect the two things. Thank you Miss Grayston. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

_Yes, it’s a pleasure to see you too._

“I need to go,” she said. “Good bye, Holmes.”

He simply bowed and then followed his own path.


End file.
